I'm not sure what else you're asking about. I did stop doing tours. I've mainly done one off performances since 2010. I'm back on the tour wagon. Explanation in the link above

Tue Apr 01, 2014 6:13 pm

Price Of The Kings Ticket

Joined: 24 Oct 2008
Posts: 32
Location: Manchester, UK

Cant wait Sage, thanks for the early single.

Wed Apr 02, 2014 1:59 am

Juangirls don juan anything to do with me

Joined: 16 Sep 2003
Posts: 1135
Location: Ohio

Come to Ohio, please. Thanks.

Wed Apr 02, 2014 3:48 am

Limbs

Joined: 04 Feb 2011
Posts: 977

I know. I meant I bet if you never said anything about stopping "touring" no one would have even noticed cuz you were steady doing shows from my perspective. But probably not.

I like your new song a lot. I'm always excited for your stuff but this one. This one here has it's hooks in me.

Wed Apr 02, 2014 3:01 pm

laurapalmer

Joined: 10 Jul 2002
Posts: 1477

I am trying to decide if I am driving to Chicago or Pittsburgh.

Tue Apr 08, 2014 8:31 pm

Sage FrancisSelf Fighteous

Joined: 30 Jun 2002
Posts: 21671

Tonight there will be a full lunar eclipse, otherwise known as a "blood moon." Considering how some significant things happened in my life today, similar (but wholly opposite) to when we last had a blood moon, I'd like to share the lyrics to a song on my #CopperGone album. I wasn't intending on making any of this public just yet, but when the universe speaks I try to listen.
"ONCE UPON A BLOOD MOON" lyrics:

He offered her the world but came up short.
The nastiest of storms made him settle on a city with a port.
He watched ships sail by in the middle of July.
He wrote notes on paper boats, sat, and waited for replies.
Hope floats. Even when it's on fire.
Especially when it's on fire.
But the smoke makes him tired.
Took a blade to the chest like he was opening a body bag.
"Sir, he's still a live in here!"
"Well Christ then, remove the tag!"
"What's it say?"
"It says":

Fold along the lines.
Then set me free. Not on fire. Because often times…
When I set my self free this empty bag of a body tends to get burned in effigy.
I've lost the energy to fight off the flames.
Or blow it all off like it's all just a game.

"All the same, I wish he wouldn't write himself out of the picture.
That's a beautiful ocean that ya got...
when there's someone there to share it with ya."

This is why she can't have nice things.
He was too caught up in work to sign for the nice deliveries that life brings.
Now he can't tell if he's dead or not.
He said, "I bet I am and I can prove it."
She said, "You'd better not."
This is why she can't have nice things.
Because talk is cheap and there was poor communication.
All he wanted to say on the dock that day,
Was I love you and I'm sorry, but instead he just waved goodbye.
And he cried, love.
So much he watched the waters rise up.
It may have been the changing of the tides
but I've come to assume
It was the changing of a mind...
Once upon a blood moon.

They skimmed rocks for the whole day.
He imagined he was throwing rotten parts of himself that broke away.
So he couldn't stop. Fascinated by the way
They'd skip on top, give up and then drop.
He sank with 'em.
They convened on the rock bottom and made a decision.
They could never raise children.
Not like this.
Not like people who make babies on purpose.
That's when he came to the surface.
Fully intending to be strong in his resolve
until all of it dissolved,
Slipping through his pruney fingers like,
"this could have been ours."
But this is to the offers that can't be followed through with.
The waterworks, the leaky faucets, the lost fluids.
To the current of this stream
that will always push you from me.
To the reoccurring dream
that makes reality less ugly.
In a picturesque setting where the world looks airbrushed.
Needless to say…words failed us.
On the dock that day, all I wanted to say,
was I love you and I'm sorry. Instead I just waved…goodbye
And I cried, love.
So much I watched the waters rise up.
It must have been a changing of the tides that was breaking up our lives.
It was a water aged wrinkle in time.
And yeah, sure, minds are made for the changing.
But mine's been deteriorating.
Like the bluffs and shoreline where I've been waiting
to exhale.
Since the summer when we watched every last one of our friends set sail,
'Til I was the only living boy left in Providence.
Writing death certificates and collecting the rest of my documents,
For origami purposes. I gave em to the ocean. Like:
"Hey, look at me…I'm great at folding.
I guess I'll just do this the rest of my life."
It's got to do with lots of loving.
And it ain't nothing nice.

This is why she can't have nice things.
He set fire to the paper boat sonatas he's been writing.
and this is why I assume the moon was bleeding,
and why there wasn't any blood left in the rock you were squeezing.